Falling Down
by julesmonster
Summary: Story #3 in the Rainbow Inn Universe. Prequel to TRI. Chase is acting out of character. He's living with Cameron but sleeping with House. When something happens at the hospital, everything changes and Chase faces a battle for his life. Slash House/Chase


**Falling Down**

**By Julesmonster**

**Disclaimer:** All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

**A/N:** Well, here is my second House, MD fic featuring House and Chase slash. Rather than doing a lot of research on numerous illnesses, this time I stuck with one illness and one patient. It made my life a lot easier. Hope you enjoy the results! Jules

**HCHCHCHCHC**

Chase grasped the edge of the toilet tank lid and thrust his hips back even as House thrust forward. God this was fantastic. The feel of that hard cock filling him, hitting his prostate over and over again, the thrill of doing something where they could be caught, the fevered pitch of their passion…it was all so wonderful. House's hands grasped and pinched and left marks wherever they roamed. It wasn't long before Chase was grasping at his own cock and stroking purposefully. He could feel the tension in House's body behind him and he felt his own orgasm rising to the surface. And then he was coming and House was groaning in his ear, their bodies still moving in jerky spurts as the sensations continued to flow through them.

Eventually, both men caught their breaths. House carefully pulled out and removed the condom. That went straight into the trash. Chase used the toilet paper to clean up any residual semen from the toilet seat and then pulled his pants and trousers back up. House was already washing his hands at the sink when Chase turned around.

"What a way to start the morning. I like when you go commando," House smirked into the mirror, his eyes catching Chase's.

"Yeah well, all my pants were in the laundry," Chase muttered as he joined House at the sink. "We can't keep doing this."

"Afraid we'll get caught?" House asked mockingly. "We could always go back to my place. Oh wait, I forgot. Cameron would miss you if you didn't come home."

Chase snorted in amusement. "I doubt that."

"Trouble in paradise?" House asked with malevolent glee.

"Like you hadn't already worked that out," Chase mumbled as he buttoned his shirt. He met House's eyes and smirked. "If the fact that I've been letting you fuck me for the last three months wasn't enough of a sign, I would think the fact that Cameron never touches me would be."

"You never did tell me why you decided to take me up on my offer after four years," House said.

Chase stared into the mirror for long minutes, not seeing his own reflection. House thought that he saw a flicker of pain in those eyes. His voice was flat when he said, "She's been fucking Wilson for almost a year."

House frowned. "Jimmy? I don't think so. I would know if Jimmy was boffing one of my fellows."

Chase finally looked at House again and smirked; his mask was firmly back in place. "Are you sure about that?"

"How can you be so sure?" House asked coolly. He was disgruntled by the thought that Wilson would keep something this huge a secret from him.

"Because I caught them," Chase said carelessly. "A week after she and I moved in together. I was supposed to be out with a mate, but he had to cancel at the last minute. I came home and found them fucking in our bed. I watched them for a while, but they never saw me. I left and never mentioned it. Since then, I've paid attention to the details, the nights she's working late or supposed to be out with friends and she comes home more mussed than usual or freshly showered. They _**are**_ still sleeping together."

"Why didn't you say anything? Confront them?" House wondered.

Chase rubbed at his eyes and wished that his headache would go away. "Because it isn't my business. If Cameron wants to fuck around, then fine. She can fuck around. Of course, I reserve the right to do the same."

"How can you say it isn't your business?" House asked. "She's you girlfriend."

"It's just a fucking label," Chase declared dryly. He was tired of this conversation. "She doesn't belong to me. And I…"

"You what?"

"I don't love her," Chase admitted. "Never did."

"Then why move in together?" House wanted to know. "Why stay when she's with someone else?"

Chase shrugged. "The sex was good when we were still having it. And I wanted to pretend for a while longer that I wasn't fighting myself to keep from taking you up on your offer."

House knew that he was Chase's first male lover, if that was what you could call them. They met on the sly, usually in some out the way bathroom or closet in the hospital. On occasion, they went back to House's place, but never for the entire night. House would never admit it, but he was tired of sneaking around. The thrill of the clandestine meetings was gone, but he couldn't let Chase go. He'd take the younger man however he could get him.

"So you've given in, now," House said. "What's keeping you there with her?"

Chase looked away from House and rubbed at his temples again. "I don't know."

House sighed. "Another headache? That's the fourth one this week."

Chase shook his head. "No that's the same one. It just never seems to go away completely."

House frowned now. "You've had a headache for four days? And you haven't seen a doctor?"

"I am a doctor," Chase scoffed. "It's just a migraine. And I've seen a doctor about them because they aren't that unusual in my life. I've taken my medicine. I'm fine."

House wanted to protest, but Chase was already leaving. "Fine, go. But if it doesn't get better by tomorrow, you will be checked out. Even if I have to tie you to a bed and do the tests myself."

Chase waved him off and headed for the diagnostics lab where there were tests to be done.

**HCHCHCHCHC**

The day seemed to drag. Chase did the work he was assigned and answered questions that were posed to him, but he offered nothing voluntarily. His headache was getting worse, despite the prescription painkiller he was taking. When lunch finally rolled around, instead of eating, he went to the on-call room to lie down. The quiet and semi-darkness of the room seemed to help some and he slept. When Foreman finally came to get him, Chase wasn't quite sure where he was or how long he had been there.

The trip back to diagnostics wasn't long, but Chase tripped over his own feet twice on the way. The second time, he landed on his hands and knees in the middle of the hospital corridor. Foreman held a hand out to him, but Chase waved him away. He could stand on his own two feet. Though it was harder than Chase thought it should be.

He staggered behind Foreman back to the conference room where Cameron and House were waiting to discuss their last patient, who had been released that morning. Chase stumbled towards his chair, unaware of the worried glances he was getting. At the last minute, however, he changed directions and hurried to the wastebasket. About two feet from the plastic can, he tripped and had to crawl the final feet. Once there, he proceeded to vomit until there was nothing but bile left to evacuate. Even then, his stomach clenched repeatedly with dry heaves.

"Get him into a bed," House ordered. Cameron scrambled to call an orderly while Foreman knelt beside Chase to help him keep his head out of the trash can. House watched as Foreman tried to talk to Chase, but the intensivist was not coherent. He would answer simple questions with nonsensical answers: "What's your name?" "Forty three."

Foreman looked up at House with worried eyes even as Cameron returned with an orderly and a stretcher. They were just about to put him onto the stretcher when he began to seize.

"Shit," House muttered. This wasn't good. "Is he feverish?"

"Not really," Foreman said as he held Chases arms and shoulders down to keep him from hurting himself on the desk or table nearby. "Maybe a low-grade fever."

"Get him into quarantine," House ordered. "And the rest of us will have to be as well. At least until we can determine if he has meningitis."

"I'll call Cuddy and let her know," Cameron said as Foreman and the orderly finally got Chase on the stretcher.

"Call Wilson as well," House instructed. "If it is meningitis, you've probably exposed him. He needs to be down here and away from his oncology patients."

"What…"

"There's no time for you to play dumb," House shouted. "Call him!"

**HCHCHCHCHC**

An hour later, Chase was awake and aware once more. Though he was confused as to why he was in a hospital bed. He was in diagnostics. He recognized the room as one of theirs. House was leaning against the wall, twirling his cane as he stared at the floor. Classic thinking pose, Chase mused.

"What happened?" Chase asked.

House looked up and stopped playing with his cane. "You had a pretty serious bout of vomiting followed by a seizure. You are running a mild fever, so the department has been locked down."

Chase frowned as he brain began to put the pieces together. "You think it's meningitis?"

"I think it's one possibility," House said. "And until we know for sure, you are a potential risk to the rest of the hospital."

Chase nodded. He thought about what had happened. "There are other possibilities."

"Like?" House quizzed.

"Like a brain abscess," Chase listed. "Transient ischemic attack, stroke, aneurism, tumor…"

"And none of the above are good things," House said. "Though I doubt the aneurism, the TIA or the stroke. The pain lasted too long before the seizure and you aren't feeling any numbness. Are you?"

"No," Chase agreed. "Just really tired and nauseous. And my head still hurts." He looked through the wall of windows and saw Cameron out in the hall talking rather animatedly to Wilson. "I thought you said the entire department was under quarantine."

"It is," House said. He followed Chase's gaze and realized where he was looking. "Oh, him. Yeah, I told Cameron he had to be quarantined too since, if it is meningitis, you exposed her and she exposed him."

Chase whipped his head back around and groaned at the foolish action. "You told her you know? Does she know I told you?"

House looked back at Cameron and Wilson and smirked. "Well, I think she's figuring that out, because I'm pretty sure that Wilson is swearing up and down right now that he didn't tell me."

Wilson walked away with a huff and Cameron looked lost for a moment before she turned towards Chase. Their eyes met through the window and suddenly her eyes widened and she flushed. Then she turned and fled towards the conference room. "Yep, she's figured it out."

"Shit," Chase muttered and laid his head back onto the pillow. "Now what?"

"Now we go over your patient history," House said. "Are you taking any medications, vitamins or herbal supplements?"

"Multivitamin every morning," Chase said. "And I've been taking Midrin for what I thought was a migraine."

"What time was your last dose?" House asked, holding Chase's chart.

"Um…" Chase had to really think about that. "Before we…"

"Fucked," House supplied.

Chase glared at him. "But after I got to the hospital."

"So around 8:30, give or take," House said. "Have you been exposed to any known viruses or bacteria?"

Chase snorted. "Around here? More than likely. But nothing specific that I know of."

"Been out of the country in the last year?" House said.

"You know the answer to that," Chase said. House glanced up from the chart and glared. "Okay. Yes. I went to Australia last fall for my father's funeral. I didn't use any intravenous drugs or have sex with anyone while I was there. In fact, I've never used intravenous drugs in my life. And the only people I've had sex with for the last two years is you and Cameron."

"I'll need to find out if she's slept with anyone else recently," House said cheerfully. "Boy is that going to be a fun interview!"

Chase chuckled. "She hasn't exactly proven to be the faithful type."

"No, she hasn't," House agreed. "Have you experienced any other symptoms that we haven't covered yet?"

Chase had to think about that. "Mild blurring of vision for brief periods of time. Sporadic bouts of dizziness. That's about it."

House nodded. "Have you had any infections recently? Gingivitis, sinus, ear ache?"

Chase shook his head. "Nothing. No wounds or even scrapes to get infected. I suppose that knocks out an abscess from the possibilities."

"Not completely, but it does move it further down the list," House said.

"Why isn't Foreman in here?" Chase asked. "He's the neurologist."

"He's arranging to get access to the CT scan," House said. "Can't just wheel you down there and let you spread your germs to all of the innocent patients in for kidney stones…. And I wanted to talk to you."

"About?" Chase asked.

House used his cane and limped over to the side of Chase's bed. "About why you didn't tell me you weren't feeling well before we fucked."

Chase fiddled with the edge of the blanket covering him. "Because I knew if I had you wouldn't have fucked me."

House scowled. "I could have waited."

"But I couldn't," Chase said. "I wanted it. I needed it."

"Why?" House demanded.

"Because I realized something last night when I was lying in bed waiting for Cameron to get back from fucking Wilson," Chase said quietly, staring at the blanket in his hands.

"What did you realize?"

Chase finally looked up and met House's eye. "I realized that I was in love with you."

House gazed at Chase and nodded. "Good. So does that mean you're going to leave her?"

Chase chuffed. He told House he loved him and all he got in return was 'Good?' Somehow that didn't surprise him. "Yeah. I'd already decided that I'd tell her tonight when we went home. Of course, now I won't be going home. And she'll think it's because she was sleeping with Wilson."

"The guilt will eat her up," House agreed even as he leaned closer to Chase's bed. "She'll be absolutely useless for weeks. Unless you give her a reason not to feel guilty."

"No reason to ruin a good working relationship," Chase supposed. "I might be a germ factory."

"If you are, I've already been about as exposed as I can get," House said.

Chase shrugged. He reached up and grabbed House's head and pulled him into a deep and drawn out kiss. There were no emotional barriers with this kiss. Chase gave House everything he had and everything he was. In return, he received more than he could have ever dreamed. Who needed words when he could have this feeling? When they finally pulled apart, they were both shaken. Chase cleared his throat. "Do you think that will work?"

House straightened up and looked out the window to where Foreman, Wilson and Cameron were all watching in disbelief. "I believe so."

**HCHCHCHCHC**

Cameron performed the spinal tap that would determine if Chase had meningitis. The procedure wasn't the most comfortable thing Chase had ever experienced, but it wasn't as bad as most people assumed. No, his real discomfort stemmed from the fact that Cameron was pissed and refused to speak to him.

"You know," Chase said mildly. "I could be dying. It's not nice to give a dying man the cold shoulder."

Cameron was silent for a long time, but eventually broke. "I can't believe you! House? How long has this been going on?"

Chase laughed at her indignation. "Three months. How long have you been fucking Wilson? It's been at least a year. Probably since before we ever got together."

That cooled her anger considerably. "I'm sorry."

Chase waved her concern away. "Nothing to be sorry about. I don't own you."

Cameron seemed to deflate a bit at that. "I know. Maybe that was part of the problem."

Chase raised his brows in surprise. "You wanted me to be a possessive Neanderthal, scaring away anyone who looked twice in your direction?"

Cameron shrugged as she turned away to process the fluids that she had removed for testing. "Maybe. Maybe I just wanted someone to pay attention to me."

"And I didn't?" Chase asked curiously.

"Not the way I wanted," Cameron said. "Not the way you hang on every word that House says."

"Does Wilson give you that attention?" Chase asked.

Cameron turned back around and nodded. "James is…"

"Attentive," Chase supplied. "But remember, his attention only last for so long and then it wanders. He has a long history of straying. How many times has he been married now?"

"Too many," Cameron said sadly. "I know that. That's why I've been so adamant about not letting it get around. I didn't want to hurt you, but I also didn't want people to feel sorry for me when it all goes belly up. What about you and House?"

Chase shrugged as he settled back on the bed once again. "I don't know. We'll see how it goes."

"You're in love with him," Cameron stated.

"I am," Chase admitted.

"You never were with me," Cameron said. "When this is all over, I'll move out."

"No," Chase said. "You can have the apartment. I'll find a place. I was thinking of buying something anyway. Since my dad left me some money when he died, I can afford it."

Cameron nodded and left.

**HCHCHCHCHC**

"How long have you been sleeping with Chase?" Wilson demanded as soon as he got House alone in his office.

House smirked. "Three months. How long have you been sleeping with Cameron? At least a year, according to Chase. Funny how I had to hear it from him, and not you."

"You didn't tell me about Chase, either," Wilson pointed out, but his outrage was completely deflected. He sat on the sofa and looked at House. "Chase has known for a year?"

"That's what he told me this morning," House said.

"Why didn't he say anything?" Wilson asked, his guilty conscience coming out to play.

"He says it's because he didn't care," House told him. "He said it wasn't any of his business."

"I doubt I would agree if I was in his place," Wilson said with some disbelief.

"Well, the way is clear for you now," House said. "I'm pretty certain my little wombat is breaking up with your girl as we speak."

"Oh god," Wilson groaned. "Please don't call her that."

"Why not?" House asked with phony innocence. He knew his friend entirely too well. If he and Cameron had been hiding an affair for more than a year, then one of two things was about to happen. Either Wilson would marry the girl or he would dump her. Judging from his groan, the latter was more likely, but the former was not out of the question. If Cameron looked like she wanted a ring, Wilson would probably give it to her.

"Because…." Wilson looked completely stymied. "Because it never works when I marry a girl I was having an affair with."

"Ah, but she was the one cheating this time," House pointed out. "Unless… don't tell me you've been boffing since before Candy left! That's more than two years. That's before Cameron even started dating Chase. Jesus, Jimmy! Are you two insane? Why would you let her drag Chase into this?"

"She seems to care about him," Wilson said lamely. "I didn't want to interfere."

House shook his head. "You are such a hypocrite."

"What?" Wilson asked aghast. "Why am I a hypocrite? You were sleeping with Chase behind Cameron's back, too."

"Ah, but I've never pretended to be all concerned for my fellow man," House pointed out. "Everyone knows how much of a bastard I am. You tell me all the time. But you… You like to be thought of as caring and concerned. Yet when your dick is involved, to hell with anyone else's feelings or well-being. And even though Chase said it didn't matter, I know it did. I know he was hurt."

"I don't want to talk about this right now," Wilson said through gritted teeth.

"That's fine," House said as he stood and grabbed his cane. "I have a wombat to keep alive long enough so I can take advantage of his youthful vigor and stamina."

**HCHCHCHCHC**

"The test came back negative for meningitis," Cameron said as she walked into Chase's room. Foreman and House were both there, along with an orderly who was transferring Chase from a stretcher back into the bed. "Have we gotten the results back from the CT yet?"

"Not yet," Foreman said. "We just got back from taking the scan. It will take a little while for them to be processed."

"Hey, hey! Ducklings!" House scolded. "We do not talk about a patient's condition in front of the patient."

"Bugger off, Greg," Chase moaned. His head was hurting worse than ever. "I want to know what you know."

"Are you always so informal with your doctor, Robbie?" House mocked.

"When I'm sleeping with him, I am," Chase said. When he realized what he had said, Chase swore. "Sorry. I didn't mean to say that out loud."

"He's been doing that a lot," Foreman said. "I've heard more than I care to know about both you and Cameron's techniques in bed."

"Foreman, go get the white board," House instructed. "Since Chase can't go to the conference room, we'll do our differential here."

Foreman left and Cameron gave House a worried look as Chase sank back into his pillow. The man looked exhausted and in pain. She walked over to him and spoke softly. "Can we give him something for the pain?"

"Not until we know what's causing it," House said equally quiet. "If he needs surgery, he could bleed out if we give him the wrong thing."

"You think it's a tumor, don't you?" Cameron asked.

"It's looking more and more likely," House told her. "We've already ruled out meningitis. He doesn't have the risk factors for a TIA or stroke. And he doesn't have any infections that would cause an abscess."

"You've started without me," Foreman said as he returned and set up the white board. "No fair. I am the neurologist."

"House was just telling Cameron why he thinks it's most likely a tumor," Chase said without opening his eyes. "Though from the whispering, I don't think they wanted me to hear."

"Tumor seems most likely to me as well," Foreman agreed.

"Well, let's go back over the symptoms and test results we have so far and go from there," House said as he pulled out a marker. Soon the words nausea, vomiting, seizure, headache, dizziness, loss of coordination, intermittent blurred vision, loss of control over speech, and fatigue were listed on one side of the board. On the other side, House wrote TIA, stroke, aneurism, meningitis, brain abscess, and tumor. He crossed out meningitis. "Did I leave out any potential causes?"

"Hypoglycemia," Chase said weakly. "It can cause all of that, but the headache. The lack of carbs could explain that, though." House wrote it down.

"If it weren't for the seizure, I'd say labrynthitis or MS," Cameron said.

"We shouldn't rule out Epilepsy," Foreman said. "Though the headache is atypical; it could be a separate issue."

House nodded and added that to the board. "Okay, we've ruled out one, and have lessened the likelihood of these others. Now let's find out for sure. Cameron, draw more blood to test his sugar levels and coagulations. Then go back over his results and make sure there are no infections present anywhere in the body. Foreman, do an ultrasound, an EKG and an EEG to rule out stroke, TIA, aneurism and epilepsy. No reason to sit on our asses while we wait for the CT results."

The other two got to work and House looked over at Chase, who had fallen asleep part way through the differential. He hated to admit it, even to himself, but he was worried.

**HCHCHCHCHC**

By the time the CT scan results were delivered, the team had ruled all the other possible causes. Chase's sugar levels were normal. His white blood count was elevated, but still within normal ranges. The EKG, EEG and ultrasound showed nothing out of the ordinary. His coagulations rates, however, were abnormal, which made a tumor a very real possibility.

"Let me see the results," Chase said before House could even open the file.

"I will," House said. "After I've looked."

"No, let me see them first," Chase said. "I don't trust that you won't go back on your word if you don't like what you see."

House huffed, but knew that Chase was right. He would lie if it suited him. "Okay."

Chase took the file and opened it. The scans inside were familiar. He'd seen thousands of them over the years. The full body scan came up clean. The brain scan did not. There was a mass of tissue in the right temporal lobe. Well, that certainly explained the loss of inhibition when he was talking.

"It's a tumor," Chase said numbly as he handed the file back to House. "Primary. No other tumors in the body, so it can't be metastatic. That means, if it's malignant, my chances of long term survival are about 10%. Oh, and it's the right temporal lobe, which would explain why I can't seem to censor myself. It's fucking with my inhibitions. This also probably explains why I've been so hot for it lately. I mean, really, over the toilet?"

House was silent while he looked over the results. "I'm going to page Foreman and Wilson. I want their opinions."

"What's to consult?" Chase asked with an edge of hysteria in his voice. "I've got a fucking brain tumor! Even if it isn't cancerous, there's a good chance I could die on the operating table, or worse, be a vegetable! What the fuck are Foreman and Wilson going to do about that?"

House dropped the file and gave all of his attention to Chase who was beginning to hyperventilate. "Chase! Robbie. Calm down. We don't know that it's cancerous. And we won't know until they do a biopsy."

"I can't… I can't do this," Chase said, his breathing labored and his heart rate increasing. And then he was seizing and there was nothing that House could do but call for help while he tried to keep Chase from hurting himself.

When it was over, Foreman and Cameron were there and Chase was being pumped full of drugs. Dexamethasone to ease the swelling in his brain and Carbamazepine to relieve the seizures. On top of those, House had them include a pain med that wouldn't interfere with anesthesia or thin the blood but would also help him keep calm.

Foreman looked over at House and noticed the file lying on the floor. "I take it the results came back?"

House nodded and Foreman picked up the file. "There's a primary tumor in his right temporal lobe."

"Explains the diarrhea of the mouth," Foreman mused as he looked over the scan. "And this latest tantrum. His inhibitors are being affected." He noticed that House was leaving just then. "Where are you going?"

"I'm going to make sure Chase has the best neurosurgeon in the country on his case," House said as he limped towards the doorway. "I'll be up with Cuddy."

**HCHCHCHCHC**

"How's Chase?" Cuddy asked as soon as House limped in unannounced.

House took a seat in front of her desk and looked grim. "He has a tumor in his right temporal lobe. He panicked when he saw the results and seized again."

"I'm sorry," Cuddy said. "We'll do everything we can for him."

"Not good enough," House said. "I want Michael Burgess in here to do the surgery."

"House," Cuddy frowned. "Be reasonable. Burgess is the best in the country. He can't just drop everything to come out here for one patient."

"He owes me," House said. "I'll make sure he comes. I just need you to approve his visiting doctor status."

"I'll approve it," Cuddy said. "And if you let me know when he's arriving, I'll make sure that there's an OR available. Good enough?"

House nodded and stood. "He's going to beat this."

"I hope you're right," Cuddy sighed as House limped back out the door.

**HCHCHCHCHC**

"Didn't mean to go mad before," Chase muttered later that evening. House was sitting beside his bed and they were watching some TV show that House apparently followed religiously.

"Understandable," House said. "The tumor is messing with more than your ability to censor your speech. It's also affecting your ability to filter your emotions, causing you to over-emote."

"When's your friend getting here?" Chase asked. House had told him that Burgess had agreed to fly in from Chicago to remove the tumor.

"Tomorrow," House said. "He'll get in about three in the afternoon. Your surgery is scheduled for first thing the next morning."

"Grand," Chase said. "I think you should go home. I'll be fine here by myself."

House snorted. "I'm not going anywhere. Do you recall your declaration to me this morning?"

"Hard to forget it," Chase said. "I should have realized something was wrong with my temporal lobe when I said that. I never thought I'd admit that to you."

"Yeah well," House grimaced. "I'm glad you did. I… Well, I don't want you to die. And I wouldn't be sleeping if I went home. I'd be worrying that the incompetent people who work in this hospital were doing something detrimental to your recovery."

Chase grinned. That was probably as close to a declaration of love as House would ever get, but it was enough. "Alright, if you insist on staying, don't be offended if I go to sleep now."

House leaned over and kissed Chase chastely. "I won't be offended. Get some rest. I'll be here if you need anything."

Chase drifted to sleep and House sat watching him for a long time, the television completely ignored. House knew the odds were against Chase, but he wasn't going to give up without a fight. It was strange. When he'd been the one in the bed and Stacy had been the one watching over him, he hadn't given much thought to how she must have felt. The helplessness and fear was overwhelming. He suddenly understood all of the pushy and irritating family members of the patients he had treated. This was frustrating in the extreme.

"You should get some sleep, too," Cuddy said from the doorway. "I'll have housekeeping bring up a cot for you."

"What, no command to go home?" House asked through a yawn.

"Wouldn't work anyway," Cuddy shrugged.

House nodded, acknowledging the truth of that statement. "He's scheduled a meeting with a lawyer for tomorrow. He wants to make out a living will."

"It's a good thing to do," Cuddy said. "He needs to know that his wishes will be followed."

"I just wish I knew what those wishes were," House sighed.

"I'll go call housekeeping," Cuddy said. "Get some rest. You'll know what he wants tomorrow."

House nodded and watched her leave.

**HCHCHCHCHC**

"If it becomes clear that severe brain damage has occurred, I want no extraordinary measures to be taken, including ventilation," Chase told the lawyer. She was young and pretty, but House noticed that there was a coldness to her that was unattractive. The fact that she could listen to a man as young as Chase speak about his death with little to no emotion spoke of one whose heart was hardened. "I don't want to live as a vegetable."

"What about disabilities or mental impairments?" the lawyer asked.

"As long as I'm capable of some sort of independent thought, I want to live," Chase said.

The lawyer noted that and moved on to the next question on her form. "Who would you like to have control of your medical proxy?"

"Gregory House," Chase said firmly without hesitation. House looked up at his lover and Chase gave a brief smile. "And in the case of my death, I want everything I have to go to him, money and property. If he doesn't want it, he can distribute it as he sees fit."

"I'll make a note of that," the lawyer said. "Give me an hour with my laptop and I can get the living will, the medical proxy and the will printed out for you to sign. We'll need a notary to witness, however."

"Tina in legal is a notary," House said. "I'll have her come by."

"Thank you," Chase said as the woman got up to leave. "I appreciate you coming here on such short notice."

"You are welcome," she smiled and House saw a bit of warmth for the first time. Maybe she had to shut down her emotions in order to do the job. "I hope you don't need any of this."

"Me too," Chase smiled back.

"I don't want your stuff," House said once she was gone.

"Don't say that yet," Chase chuckled. "You don't know how much I'm worth."

House snorted. "And I don't care. I know your father left you some money in his will. It could be a fortune of Bill Gates proportion and it wouldn't change the fact that I don't want it."

"Too bad," Chase said. "Because even if I live through this, I'm not changing my will. If I die, you'll get everything. You'll get my life insurance, too."

"You took Cameron off?" House asked with surprise.

"Never had her down as beneficiary," Chase shrugged. "Since I bought the policy, it's always been you. Didn't have any friends or family when I came here. So I used you. After a while, it seemed silly to change that. Now I wouldn't even if you asked."

"I am asking, damn it!" House grumped.

Chase chuckled again. "Well, I'm not changing it. Oh, but if I die, you should probably let Cameron keep whatever's in the apartment. It would be more hassle than it's worth to try and figure out who bought what."

"You aren't going to die," House insisted. "And I refuse to continue on with this conversation." House got up to leave but Chase's voice stopped him.

"Greg," Chase said. "Please don't go. I promise that I'm going to fight this with everything that I am. But you have to promise me to let me go if it becomes obvious that I'm going to lose. I need to know that you'll be here, because I'm not sure I'm strong enough to do it alone. At the same time, I can't live with the idea that you'll fall apart after the fact."

House turned back to Chase who now had tears falling down his cheeks. "I'm not going anywhere. And if I fall apart when it's all over, you'll be there to put me back together again. I refuse to even consider any other option."

Chase nodded and swiped at his tears. "Okay."

**HCHCHCHCHC**

Michael Burgess was not an attractive man, Chase decided. He was balding and pudgy, but his hands were steady as a rock and he knew what he was doing when it came to brain surgery. He arrived to examine Chase just after dinner. Chase had had two small seizures through the day, but other than that, the medication was helping enormously and he felt pretty good. So he was awake and alert for the exam and insisted to House and Burgess that they discuss his case with him. Burgess looked bemused, but agreed when House nodded.

"The position of the tumor is such that we won't be able to use stereostatic surgery," Burgess said. "That is always the preferred method if at all possible. In this case, we're going to have to open him up and see what we can do. From the CT scan, it looks like it should be fairly straightforward. There are no unusual protrusions. It looks as though the tumor has remained fairly self-contained. That's the good news.

"The bad news is that we will have to go through the outer layers of the temporal lobe to get to the mass," Burgess continued. "Invariably this will result in some minor damage. The question is how minor, and whether the results will be permanent or not. Sometimes, the brain can find new paths to complete the same function when one is cut off by scarring. Other times, it cannot. We simply won't know how this will affect him until it's done."

House nodded and Chase sighed. "Well, it's better than nothing. At least it gives me a chance."

"A very good chance, I would say," Burgess said. "I've seen many tumors. I can honestly tell you that despite its placement, I feel very confident with both your chances of survival and that you will sustain minimal damage during the process. I cannot make guarantees, you understand, but I believe that by tomorrow night I will be proven correct."

House let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding. "Thanks Mike."

"Greg, why don't you take Mike for dinner," Chase suggested. "I'm just going to nap for a while, and he'd probably like to catch up."

"I doubt that," House smirked. "I didn't tell you why he agreed to come, did I?"

"Well, you aren't going to now," Burgess spoke up quickly. "Dinner sounds good. If you would prefer to stay close, I'm sure the cafeteria would do."

House looked from Mike to Chase and sighed. "No. There's a pretty good Italian place a couple blocks from here. We'll go there."

**HCHCHCHCHC**

Chase was awake again when House returned later that evening. "How was dinner? Did you have the shrimp carbonara? I love that."

"I had the lasagna," House said. "But when you get out of here, I'll take you there and you can order whatever the hell you want."

Chase grinned. "I'm going to hold you to that, Greg."

"I'm counting on it," House said as he took his seat beside Chase's bed. "Listen Robbie. I want to talk to you about something."

Chase frowned as he grabbed House's hand. "What's up?"

"I've been thinking," House said. "Lot's of time to do that when I'm sitting by your bed all day long."

"Watching your soaps," Chase pointed out cheekily. "I would have thought they might keep your mind too busy to think about other things."

House glared. "I am trying to be serious here. So cease your prattling, Wombat."

"Sorry," Chase said with false politesse.

House sat up straighter and cleared his throat. "Okay, so when you get out of this place, you've already said that you aren't going back with Cameron. So I was thinking that you might need a place to stay."

Chase raised his brows. "You mean with you? As in move in?"

House glared again. "I thought that would be obvious."

"Not really," Chase shrugged. He paused, thinking. "Okay, so we've been sleeping together for three months, and have made some sort of emotional declaration. I suppose the next step would be to move in together. I'm not against that in principle."

"But…?"

"But your apartment is too small," Chase said. "And the plumbing sucks. Not to mention the fact that your piano is in the only common living space in the place, which means I wouldn't have any place to watch TV or read without disturbing you."

House snorted. "So what is your solution?"

"We find a bigger place together," Chase said. "I told Cameron that I've been thinking about buying a house. That's true enough. We could look for a place that would suit both our needs."

House thought about that. It would mean giving up his apartment. But Chase was right. It was cramped and the plumbing sucked. And he wasn't all that attached to the space itself. What was more disconcerting was the idea that he would be giving up his independence. If Chase bought the house, it would be his, no matter if they picked it out together or not.

Then again, House made good money and there was no reason he couldn't afford to buy a place. His reluctance to buy before had more to do with the convenience of having a landlord to take care of the little things that were always going wrong with a house. If Chase wanted to take on responsibility for those things, who was he to argue.

"Fine, but if we do this, we do it together," House said firmly. "I may mooch off of Wilson, but I support myself. We go in as equals and buy a place we can both afford."

"Okay," Chase agreed easily.

House nodded. "Good. In that case I want a single story place with a game room and a media room. Oh and a pool and hot tub. And a three car garage. And you might want to consider a workout room. I'm only with you because of that hard body of yours, so you have to keep it in shape to keep me happy. No getting flabby around the middle."

Chase laughed. "Let's wait and see what a real estate agent can come up with."

**HCHCHCHCHC**

Early the next morning, the orderly came in to begin prepping Chase for surgery, the most traumatic part of which was when they began to shave the hair from the portion of Chase's head where the surgery would be done.

"Just shave it all," House told the nurse. The man hesitated and looked to Chase for confirmation. Chase shrugged and the nurse still did not move. House growled. "He's not going to keep the rest of it anyway and walk around with a huge bald patch on his head. Just shave off his damned hair!"

Chase actually laughed at that. "He's right. It'll make things easier later."

The nurse complied but House and Chase were both subdued after he left.

"We keep assuming that there's going to be a later," Chase said with a shaky voice. "What if…?"

"There are no other alternatives," House said. "There will be a later. You are going to survive this operation and we are going to get that damned house with the media room so I can watch my soaps on a wide screen television while you bust your ass on the treadmill down the hall."

Chase swallowed hard and nodded.

"They'll be in soon to pump you full of the good stuff," House said with as much forced humor as he could. "I probably shouldn't be feeling jealous, but I am."

Chase didn't bite. "I'm scared Greg."

House nodded and took a minute before saying, "I know."

"You'll be here when I wake up?" Chase asked.

"Have I gone anywhere since this started?" House asked. "Of course I'll be here. We're in this together."

"No tumor stands a chance against the infamous Gregory House," Chase smiled.

House didn't have time to agree, because the anesthesiologist and a couple of nurses came in to do the final preparations and soon Chase was being wheeled from the room. He gave House one last look before he went.

**HCHCHCHCHC**

House stood in the observation room overlooking the OR where Mike was operating on Chase. Cuddy had wanted to let some of the med students and interns observe but House had forbidden it. He didn't want to listen to their clinically detached comments about Chase's chances of survival. Instead, he stood alone at the window long after his leg had cramped and begun to throb with unbelievable pain.

"You should probably sit," Wilson said. House looked up to see him standing in the doorway.

"I thought I locked that," House said as he turned back to the scene below.

"I had Cuddy give me a key," Wilson shrugged. "I brought you a sandwich and some coffee."

House nodded but didn't move away from the window.

"You can see just as well from here," Wilson pointed out. "And you aren't going to do Chase any good if you keel over from exhaustion and malnutrition."

Hose sighed and finally turned to look at his oldest friend. "You're an ass."

"I know," Wilson conceded. "But I brought food, so come sit down for a few minutes and eat something."

House limped over and took a seat on the other side of the food Wilson had set out. He grabbed a sandwich and a cup of coffee and turned his attention back to the window.

"How's he doing?" Wilson asked.

"Everything's stable so far," House said. "Oxygen levels are good, pulse is strong and steady. Mike's doing a good job."

"He's the best," Wilson said. "I thought that was why you brought him here."

"It is," House conceded. "But even the best aren't always perfect."

Wilson grinned to himself at that. It was probably the closest House would ever come to admitting that he wasn't always right. "He's going to get through this operation just fine. Chase is a strong and otherwise healthy young man."

"I know that," House said irritably. "Will you shut up?"

"Sure," Wilson muttered as he leaned back in his seat. "We'll just sit here in silence."

"Thank you."

They did sit there in silence until Wilson couldn't stand it any longer and left. House was glad. He didn't want company right now. It was the reason he had locked the observation room to begin with. He just wanted to sit and watch what Mike was doing to his lover. He wanted to know if there were any complications. He wanted to be as close to Chase as he could get. He just didn't want anyone else to witness how worried about his wombat he really was.

**HCHCHCHCHC**

The operation was successful. Chase came through it just fine, and Mike came back to tell him that he was able to remove the entire mass. Now they just had to wait for the biopsy to come back and for Chase to wake up. House was back in his usual chair beside Chase's bed, playing his Nintendo DS. It was the only thing that took his mind off the man lying in the bed beside him.

Hours passed and House eventually dozed off. One of the nurses came into the room and put a blanket over him, but otherwise both patient and doctor were undisturbed.

It wasn't until six o'clock the next morning that Chase finally began to stir. House sat up straight as soon as he heard the first rustling of Chase's sheets. He leaned closer to Chase and grasped his hand. "Chase? Can you hear me?" There was a definite squeeze of House's fingers. It wasn't very strong, but it was enough to know that Chase had made it through the surgery.

Chase's eyes began to flutter and slowly revealed the green eyes that House had become so fond of over the past few months.

"Hey," Chase whispered hoarsely. "Guess I made it over that hurdle."

House smiled one of his rare genuine smiles. "Looks like it. How do you feel?"

"Head hurts," Chase said. "Throat too."

House reached for the cup of crushed ice and picked out a few small pieces to place in Chase's mouth. Too much liquid could cause Chase to regurgitate it back up, but the ventilator they had used during surgery would have made his throat sore and the ice would help.

"Better?" House asked.

"Yeah," Chase said tiredly, his eyes closing.

"You can go back to sleep," House said. "You need your rest."

Chase opened his eyes again. "Biopsy?"

"Hasn't come back yet," House said. "I'll wake you up when it does. I promise."

Chase closed his eyes again and fell back to sleep. House sat back in his chair and sighed. Chase was alive and hadn't lost any of his motor function. He clearly remembered where he was and why. Obviously, if there was brain damage, it was minor. House felt a wave of relief wash over him. As Chase had said, that was one hurdle overcome.

Three hours later, Wilson, Foreman and Mike Burgess walked into Chase's room with smiles on their faces. House felt his heart pick up and reached over to squeeze Chase's hand and call his name. The younger man took a few minutes to rouse, but eventually, he opened his green eyes to meet House's blue ones.

"News?" Chase rasped out.

"Good news," Mike confirmed, drawing Chase's attention from House. "The tumor was benign. And we were able to remove the tumor in its entirety from your temporal lobe."

"Which means, you'll make a full recovery," Foreman said with a grin.

"We'll still need to do some tests to see if there were any ramifications from the surgery," Mike continued. "But, from the reports Greg has given me of your earlier conversation, it doesn't look like they will be significant if there are any at all."

Chase closed his eyes and a single tear dropped from the closed lids. House squeezed his hand.

"Thank you," Chase rasped out to Burgess once his emotions were back under control. He looked at House again and smiled. "House."

House laughed. No one else in the room understood, but Greg knew that Chase wasn't calling his name; he was referring to their plan for buying a home together when this was all over.

"Right," House agreed. "With a hot tub."

"Media room." Chase's eyes were closed again, but the smile never left his face.

"Workout room to keep your ass in shape," House said.

"Housekeeper," Chase whispered.

"Definitely a housekeeper," House agreed.

"And a dog."

"Oh no, I never agreed to that," House denied.

Chase squeezed House's hand and opened his eyes once again. "Dog."

House pouted. "He'll eat Stevie."

"Dying man," Chase pointed out weakly.

"You aren't dying," House retorted with a smile. Chase was using his own tactics back on him. "That's what Mike just told you, remember?"

"'Kay. Celebrate. Dog."

House laughed. "We'll talk about it later. Go back to sleep."

Chase did, leaving House standing there with Foreman, Wilson and Mike all smirking at him.

"What?" House snapped quietly.

"Nothing!"

Each of them found reasons to scatter, leaving House in the blessed silence of the hospital room.

**HCHCHCHCHC**

Chase's recovery was almost as quick as his illness. It was only a few days after the surgery when Mike allowed him to get out of bed and begin moving around. The neurosurgeon went back home after that and House was left to oversee his lover's recuperation. There was no major brain damage, but Chase's ability to filter his thoughts was compromised slightly. It wasn't as bad as it had been before the surgery, but House thought it might be best to keep Chase from talking directly with a patient's family for a while. He was brutally honest about most things, unless he made a concerted effort to lie. His ability to cushion the truth was lost, possibly forever.

Physically, Chase was healing quickly. Within a week, he was able to move around normally, though he still tired easily. The tremors and seizures were gone completely, and his sutures were healing rapidly. Even his hair seemed to want to grow quicker than usual, as though it too wanted things to go back to normal. When House decided it was time to send Chase home, he took his lover to his small cramped apartment, took a couple weeks off of work, and the two spent time looking over properties online and talking with a real estate agent. A week after going home from the hospital, Chase was strong enough to spend a few hours looking at places the woman had found for them.

"This house had a three car garage, a den that could be converted into a media room, a large open floor plan, and three bedrooms. The entire house is on one floor, except for the bonus room above the garage," she told them as they approached the third house that day. It was a new construction, built on the outskirts of Princeton in a neighborhood that was both quiet and private. The had few houses on it, each with large yards separating the properties. Some of the homes were old and some new, giving the street and eclectic feel.

They got out and made their way inside. It was clean and modern, which House appreciated. It also had more than three times as much living space as his old apartment.

"We could use the formal dining room for a music room," House said as they looked at that room off of the entry. They went to the den next and House knew that this was the perfect place for his media room.

"The master suite is huge," Chase commented as they toured that part of the house. The guest rooms were on the opposite side of the home, giving the suite privacy.

"We could set up the work out room either in one of the guest rooms or in the bonus room," Chase suggested. "Depending on if you ever want to actually join me while I keep my ass in shape."

"Guest room," House said. "I may never get on a treadmill again, but that doesn't mean I don't want to stay fit." In fact, he often spent time at the gym, working on the weight machines and swimming laps.

"You could set up the bonus room as a guest suite," the realtor suggested. "It has a separate bathroom and closet."

"Good for the next time Wilson gets kicked out," House mused.

"Do you really think he and Cameron are going to make a go of it?" Chase asked. Since the truth had come out, Wilson had done a complete turn around and was pressing Cameron to move in with him. They hadn't talked about marriage, but Chase wondered if that wasn't next on the agenda.

House shrugged. "Who knows? Jimmy's a fickle man."

Chase looked at the bonus room and agreed that it would make a great guest suite. Then the realtor showed them the courtyard. The house was built in a F shape, with the main living space and garage along the longest line, the master suite on one short leg, and the guest rooms on the other short leg. In the center was a courtyard with French doors on all three sides. The space was beautifully designed, with a fountain in one corner, a hot tub in another, and a long lap pool just beyond the edge of the back walls of the house. There was plenty of grass and trees, despite the fact that it was a new construction.

"The yard is completely fenced," the realtor told them. "With a pool on the property, it's very important for insurance reasons. It would also be good if you decided to get a dog." She had heard the frequent lighthearted arguments the two men had about getting a dog, and couldn't help but throw in that bit of information.

"You hear that," Chase said with a tired smile. "We should get a dog. Even Denise agrees with me."

"She didn't say we _**should**_ get a dog," House corrected. "She said _**if**_ we get a dog."

Chase shrugged. "Whatever. I think we should put in an offer on this place. It's the only one we've seen that has everything we put on our wish list."

"I'll leave you two to discuss this," Denise said.

Twenty minutes later, they had gone over all the pros and cons, including the fact that the neighborhood was further away from the hospital than they had originally wanted to go. They had talked over the list price and decided what they were willing to offer. Denise came back, and the hashed out the details. Soon, they were both signing on the bottom line and their offer was official.

"Can we go home now?" Chase asked with a yawn. It was aggravating how quickly he got tired still, but they had been out for almost five hours now and he simply wasn't used to that much activity in one day.

"Yeah," House agreed. "We can go home."

**HCHCHCHCHC**

Their offer was accepted two days later and House went back to work the next week. Chase was getting better, but he wasn't ready to return to work yet. Instead, he spent his days arranging for movers, and ordering furniture for their new home. By the time he was ready to go back to work, he had everything set to be delivered right after the final papers were signed.

Chase went back to the hospital to work a month after his surgery. He was surprised when the staff and his fellow doctors gave him a small welcome back party, complete with home baked pastries and some sort of breakfast casserole. Chase was pleased by the show of support, but House was being his usual antisocial self and ditched not long after they arrived together.

His first day back seemed to drag. They had a case, but it was nothing very complicated, much to House's annoyance and Chase's relief. They actually were able to go home on time and Chase was glad of it. He was stronger, but he still got tired after a long day, and he wasn't used to working a full day yet.

"Want to stop by that Italian place?" house asked. They hadn't yet made it there and House had promised that he would take his young lover. "You can order the shrimp carbonara you like so much."

Chase smiled. "Sounds much better than take out Chinese or trying to cook."

They went to the restaurant and talked over that day's work. House caught Chase up on all the gossip he had missed while recovering. They enjoyed their food, and by the time the check came, they were both tired.

"You haven't fucked me since before the tumor," Chase said in his now blunt manner once they were back in the car.

House laughed. "Nice. Okay, what brought about that declaration?"

"I just miss that," Chase said with a shrug. "Gentle love making can be nice, but I've been thinking about some of those fast hard fucks we used to have. I miss those."

"I would think that you would be too tired for all that after your first day back at work," House said with amusement.

"Oh, I am," Chase said even as he stifled a yawn. "Not tonight. But soon."

House smirked. This new, honest Chase was a lot of fun sometimes.

**HCHCHCHCHC**

It was a long week of trying to save a woman who had contracted a rare disease from contact with a man—not her husband—who had spent time in Africa three years prior to their meeting. They had finally gotten to the truth, but it had been a close call. When they were finally able to leave the hospital, all House could think about was a glass of scotch, an hour on his piano and then bed. Chase on the other hand had different plans for him. The moment they walked through the door to House's apartment, now piled with packed boxes, Chase was on him, pushing him hard against the wall and covering House's mouth and body with his own.

Their discussion over dinner the other night hadn't been forgotten, but House had been reluctant to become too aggressive with Chase. But he was rethinking that idea as Chase's mouth covered his and demanded a response. House gave him the response he was looking for and soon they were stumbling blindly towards the bedroom, articles of clothing falling along the wayside as they went. Once they had made it to the bedroom, Chase made short work of whatever clothes remained on either of them and then pushed house down on the bed. He straddled House's hips and began a hot and tormenting exploration of his lover.

House groaned as Chase began to slowly stroke his cock. He couldn't believe that this aggressive lover had once been so unaware of his desire for men. It was arousing in the extreme knowing that House was the only male lover Chase had ever known, he was the only one who had seen this side of the often repressive man. Despite House' fear that it was too soon for something strenuous so soon after his surgery, he had never wanted Chase more than when he had thought he might lose him. And now that he knew that Chase was sticking around, his need had grown steadily. He moaned again as Chase used his teeth on a particularly sensitive area of his body.

Chase was lost in a haze of sexual awareness; all thoughts of his health had been left behind while he took what he wanted. Here was his lover spread out before him, with long lean limbs, blue eyes deeper than the ocean, and a beautiful cock. That these things belonged to a man Chase loved with his whole heart was a bonus his mind couldn't quite wrap itself around.

Chase kissed, licked and nibbled every inch of House, getting as much pleasure from the act as he was giving. And House was enjoying every moment of it, if the moans and grunts coming from the older man was any indication. Chase nibbled the older man's toes and kissed his instep. He was surprised by the strength of the reaction House gave when Chase kissed and sucked at the back of his knees. He paid careful homage to House's injured leg before moving further north. He wasn't all that surprised when House whimpered as Chase paid special attention to the juncture of his hip and thigh.

From head to toe, Chase explored every part of House, and then he turned him over and started on the other side. By the time Chase reached House' ass, the older man was whining and writhing against the duvet for friction. Chase smacked his ass, leaving a red handprint behind.

"None of that, love," Chase scolded. "I have plans for that lovely cock that involve my arse and I don't intend to wait for you to be able to get it up again."

"Then get on with it, you sadistic wombat!" House griped into the pillow. "Besides, you could let me come and just fuck me after."

Ignoring House' pitiful complaints, Chase set about exploring his lover's most private part. He knew what he wanted and that was to be fucked like he hadn't been fucked since before the tumor. Parting the cheeks gently, Chase studied the lovely pink rosette. This, just like the rest of him, was utterly perfect in Chase's eyes and Chase's mouth watered in anticipation.

"I'm so going to enjoy this, love," Chase told him. Then he buried his face in the cleft of House's ass and licked from his balls to the base of his spine in one long sensual swipe of his tongue. House groaned into his pillow and pushed his ass back for more. Chase chuckled at the wanton eagerness he saw displayed and decided to reward it. Circling in on that perfect pucker, Chase watched the muscles loosen and wink at him in response to his ministrations. When he finally stiffened his tongue and shoved past the outer ring of muscles, he thought they might have both died and gone to heaven. The taste, the smell, the feel of House on and around him. And House was shouting into the pillow below his head, panting and moaning as well.

Chase knew he needed more than just anilingus, though; so, as he continued to tease House, Chase began preparing himself. His time with House had taught him much about his own body and its needs. Grabbing the lube from the nightstand, Chase lubricated himself and stretched his own muscles. He worked his way up to three fingers to make sure he was sufficiently prepared before reluctantly pulling away from House' ass and flipping him over again.

House' cock stood straight up, like a monument to sex, and Chase was momentarily distracted with the need to worship and taste it once again. Using just the tip of his tongue to lap up the fluid spilling from the head, Chase tormented them both while House ran shaking fingers through his hair.

"Mmmm," Chase moaned as he straddled House' waist and sat back on his heals. "You are a tasty treat, love. But I told you I have plans for your cock tonight. Tonight, your body belongs to me."

"I belong to you all the time," House corrected. "But do with me what you will."

With a grin, Chase lifted himself up and guided House' cock to his own hole. The head slipped past the first ring of muscles and then past the second, eliciting a grunt from House and a low groan from Chase. Chase paused there for a minute to catch his breath and to adjust to the sensation. It had been a while since they had made love in any position other than spooned on their sides and there was a bit of discomfort, but Chase knew what was coming would make the ache worth it. House reached up to stroke Chase's chest and arms and Chase knew that he was enjoying this as much as he was. With a deep breath, Chase allowed his weight to pull him the rest of the way down until he was seated fully on House' cock.

Slowly, Chase shifted around to find the perfect angle. Leaning back slightly, he found that he could stimulate his prostate on every stroke. Chase grabbed the headboard above House for balance, leaned back and began a steady rhythm, up down, up down. House began to pump his hips into Chase increasingly faster. Chase held on with one hand and used his other to reach back and finger House' hole, finding House' prostate. The added stimulation seemed to drive the man wild under him and Chase thought for a brief moment that he now knew what it would be like to ride a bucking bronco.

Chase hummed and panted as he rode his lover. Chase's passion enveloped them and seemed to electrify every place where their bodies touched. It intensified the sensations and made everything more vibrant and alive. When Chase began the keening cry that House knew indicated his impending orgasm, House could hold back no longer. His thrusts increased and in seconds he was coming into his young lover. And Chase was coming too; without a single stroke to his young cock, he was coming like a fountain over House' chest and belly.

They both came down from their orgasmic highs slowly. Chase slid to the side and House curled his arms around him and pulled the duvet over them.

"You are a sadist," House complained a while later.

Chase laughed. "Most people would not agree."

"They're wrong," House pouted. "I know a sadist when he's torturing me."

"You seemed to be enjoying it," Chase said cheekily.

House chuckled. "What can I say? I'm a masochist. I must be if I agreed to move."

"I thought you wanted the house," Chase said with a frown as he sat up to look down at his lover.

House pulled him back down into his arms. "I do. It's the moving part that I hate. All these boxes everywhere, can't find anything I want. I'll just be happy when we're there and everything is unpacked."

"One more week and the papers will be signed and the movers will be picking up our stuff," Chase said consolingly.

"One more week of chaos, and who knows how long it will take to unpack," House griped.

Chase laughed. "There is no pleasing you."

"I think you did a pretty good job of doing just that a few minutes ago," House said.

Chase snuggled up closer and rested his head on House's chest. "I guess I did."

Together, they drifted off to sleep.

**HCHCHCHCHC**

_Six Months Later_

Chase tossed his towel into the hamper and went to find Greg. He'd just completed his workout and was looking for a work out of another kind. His first stop was the music room, but House wasn't there. Then he went to the media room and found it empty. Chase walked through the living room and looked in the kitchen before making his way back to the master bedroom. Still no House.

Chase walked out the French doors to the courtyard and finally found his wayward lover soaking in the hot tub. "There you are."

"Was I missing?" House asked with a straight face.

"Not really," Chase said as he stripped off his clothes and walked to the hot tub. Once he was settled inside the hot bubbling water and nestled close to House, he continued, "I just thought you might be up for some sex."

House leered at Chase. "I suppose. Since you are keeping up your end of the bargain and keeping that ass of yours in shape for my benefit."

"Well, now I think it can wait," Chase sighed happily. "This hot tub is too nice and relaxing to leave just yet."

House agreed and said so. They were both quiet for a time. "Wilson is coming over later for dinner."

"What time?" Chase asked without opening his eyes.

"Seven," House said.

"Cameron coming?" Chase asked. The two had continued their relationship and after everything else had settled down, they seemed happy. Cameron had refused to move in, but Chase figured it was only a matter of time. House seemed to think the fact that Cameron was clinging to her independence rather than to Wilson was a good thing. He said it was a major difference between her and the many Mrs. Wilsons who had come and gone.

"She's going out with some of her co-workers, so it'll just be the three of us," House said.

"I haven't talked with her in a couple weeks," Chase admitted. "Has Wilson said how she's doing at the new job?"

"He says she's happier there," House shrugged. "I'm not sure how she could be, dealing with the same disease every day."

"They aren't all AIDS patients," Chase said.

"But she works in a clinic dealing with immunology," House said. "In this day and age, AIDS is a major part of that."

Chase had to agree. It wouldn't be what he wanted from his life, but then again, he hadn't chosen to be an oncologist either. Dealing with dying people every day would sap the life from him.

"I talked with Foreman yesterday," Chase said.

"Oh?" House and Foreman had not been on the best of terms when the doctor had left.

"Things aren't working out at the new hospital," Chase said. "Cuddy's offered to bring him back in the neurology department. He's still considering the offer."

"He'll take it," House said confidently. "He's having trouble because he's learned to buck the system. Unfortunately, not all administrators are as much of a push over as Cuddy is."

"I'd like to hear you say that to her face," Chase taunted.

"Hey, she's kept me around," House said. "Most people would have been rid of me years ago, tenure or no tenure. Besides, she may preach the bottom line, but she has a soft spot for the patients."

"And for the hard-cases," Chase said. "She's kept you around, took me on, and is looking to bring Foreman back."

"She's a masochist," House agreed.

"I'm glad she is," Chase said. "Otherwise, who knows where I might have ended up after the fellowship ended."

"I was trying to get her to let me hire you as my assistant," House groused. "But she said that it wouldn't be ethical. Like sleeping with my fellow was ethical."

Chase laughed. "Well, I like being the Resident Director, so I'm not too upset."

"I'm not sure how you can stand being surrounded by all those new residents. Don't they get on your nerves with their questions and insecurities?"

"Nah," Chase drawled. "I just scare the shit out of them and play mind games. I learned from the best, you know."

"Lisa has got to love that," House laughed.

They were quiet again, enjoying the late spring afternoon in their peaceful hideaway. "I had my six month check up with Mike yesterday."

"I remember," House said. His tone was light, but his body tensed slightly.

"It went well," Chase said. "No sign of the tumor returning. I am officially in perfect health. No more falling down without reason."

"Well, if you ever do fall again, I'll be there to catch you," House said quietly.

"I know," Chase said with a soft smile and he leaned over to kiss House. "I know."

**The End**


End file.
